The Desert Rose
by The Hooded Menace
Summary: When everything falls down around her, Jasmine has to take control to save not only her life, but the lives of everyone in her kingdom. But with only Iago by her side, who can she turn to? Why, the enemy of her enemy, of course. A tad dark.
1. Chapter 1

_This has been something I've meant to work on for ages, and posting the first chapter should motivate me to do the rest. Remember, this poor fanfiction author owns naught but her books and DVDs, so don't sue._

**The Desert Rose**_  
_

"I can't wait to get back to Agrabah," Jasmine sighed, her arms loosely entangled with the reigns of her camel, "Diplomacy may be important, but peace-keeping missions can get so very boring."

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout as she gazed at the horizon. A faint shimmer of gold illuminated the landscape, the just-dawning sun playing off the distant domes of her home. The tinge of red in the skies combined to make it look like the most alluring of mirages.

A stirring on her shoulder broke her eyes from the vision.

"Why aren't we there yet?" Iago squawked, ruffling his crimson feathers, "I told you we should have taken Carpet, but noooo, you said that it would be better to leave him with Aladdin."

"No one forced you to go," the princess said pointedly, "As I recall, you volunteered."

The parrot shrugged.

"Eh, it was that or spend the week with Monkey Boy. And he cheats at cards."

Jasmine placed a finger against her cheek, pretending to think.

"You know, Iago, I do think I know how we could get this camel to go faster."

"Do tell."

"Lose the extra weight!"

Jasmine giggled as she pushed him off her shoulder, jerking the reigns sharply, leaving Iago gaping indignantly in midair. Leaning in closely to the neck of the camel, she could feel the dry desert air whipping against them, heard the pound of hooves on sand, as well as wings flapping hard to keep up. She let the camel run hard for several minutes, and then gently tapped it with her heels, allowing it to go into a cool down stride before stopping for a rest under a cluster of palm trees. Iago caught up a minute later, gasping and complaining.

"That was cold, Princess," he said between gulps of air, "Certainly not very diplomatic of you."

"I told you, I've had enough of that for awhile," she smiled, taking out her water skin and offering some to the parrot, who eagerly accepted, "I want something different – maybe a search for treasure."

"Now you're talking my language," said Iago, now more alert, "It's all about the gold, baby!"

Jasmine smiled, about to give a light lecture about what was really important, but stopped as her eyes were once again drawn to the horizon. The sky was lighter now, but something was off.

"Iago," she hesitated, "Look. Does something seem wrong to you?"

"Yeah, the fact that we aren't back yet—wait," the bird paused, "Now that you mention it, the sky looks really red."

A horrible twisting forced itself into Jasmine's belly, an omen she could not easily dismiss.

"It's – it's probably nothing," she said, but her demeanor said otherwise, "But we should be getting home anyway."

Iago flew back to her shoulder, his feathers tousled.

"About time," he said, and they were off.

This time, however, there was no sense of levity in their travel, no marveling at the scenery. With every step, every jolt, the twisting in Jasmine's belly intensified, hardening into a tight knot of fear. It was not the first time the skies of Agrabah were a strange color, but that was no comfort, considering what often came with the change. Evil storms or evil people, each their own unique terror. Jasmine's breathing grew faster just thinking of it, and faster still as she thought of those in the city. Her people, her father, Rajah, Genie, Abu, Carpet, Aladdin … Her breathing slowed slightly. Aladdin was there. He wouldn't let anything bad happen. He always came through.

Still, the girl did not slow the camel until they were in sight of the city walls. From a distance, they looked knotted, tangled; like a rope that had been twisted once too many times. However, when Jasmine came within a few feet of them, she saw that the reality was far worse. It was not the walls she had seen – it was stacks of bodies piled against the walls.

"What happened?" Iago asked shrilly, voicing what Jasmine's throat was too dry to ask. Forcing herself to go closer, she could see that most of the bodies were of the soldiers and guards of Agrabah, a fact that was hardly comforting. Many of the men Jasmine had known her entire life, and now they were nothing but a bloody mass. A lump welled up in her throat, but she couldn't cry.

"Princess," rasped a voice, and she looked around, startled. It was Razoul, but she could not see him at first, as other bodies were atop his. He limply waved his hand, the only part of him visible, and Jasmine rushed into the revolting task of digging him out. By the time he was freed, the girl was tired and covered with blood, her nostrils filled with the scent of death.

"Razoul, what happened? Who did this? Is my fa-" she stopped when she saw the extent of the guard's injuries. Whatever had happened, he had not gone down easily. Puncture marks decorated his torso, and one of his legs was hanging at an unnatural angle. He may not have yet been dead, but with his injuries, it was only a matter of time.

Razoul saw her stares and grunted.

"It was my duty, so save your pity. You need to get away, Princess, and hurry."

Jasmine fixed him with her most regal look.

"I can't just leave my people, at least, not without explanation."

"You always were a stubborn one," the guard coughed, "Alright. I'm not sure how it's possible, but – it was Jafar."

"Jafar!" Iago yelled, "But he's dead!"

"Shh!" Razoul said, looking nervous, "I don't know how it happened, but he's back, and for revenge. This is only the beginning. He wants you, Princess, and that flying rat over there. He won't stop until everyone who ruined him has suffered."

The guard coughed, blood burbling up from him lips. Jasmine used a trickle of water to rinse it away, and let another trickle go through his lips to soothe him.

"What of my father, and of Aladdin, and of Genie? Has he," she could barely force the words out, "Has he killed them?"

"The street rat lives," Razoul coughed again, his voice weakening, "As does his friends. Captured. The sultan…"

The pain in his eyes was not from his wounds, and Jasmine involuntarily took a step back.

"He's-"

"Dead," Razoul confirmed, "I tried to save him, Princess, but the serpent was too much-"

With that, the guard coughed, which turned into a gurgle. His eyes rolled back into his head and he was still.

"No," Jasmine said, "No. This can't be happening!"

Her eyes turned to the gate, and she nearly fainted. Hanging above it, like a sick trophy, was her father's turban. Her father's head was still in it.

"We've got to go," Iago said, his claws sharp against her shoulder, "You heard him. We're dead if we stay here."

"We can't leave him there," Jasmine said, trancelike.

"We've got to go!"

"Not without father."

The bird's look was one of pity.

"Fine – I'll fly up and get him," he said, his voice lacking its normal bite, "Get the camel ready, 'cause once I do, we're out of here!"

Jasmine nodded mutely, watching Iago fly up and grab the head by the turban. Immediately, a deep ringing blared, nearly causing the parrot to drop the bundle.

"It's a trap!" he screamed, tossing the head into one of the saddlebags and landing on Jasmine's shoulder, "RUN!"

It was only when the sound of bells was far in the distance that Jasmine wept.


	2. The Sultana And The Street Rat

_It's been a while. Someone should stand over me with an ax or a case of Dr. Pepper to make sure I write this. Anyways, on to the angst! Feel free to drop me questions and/or comments in reviews or PMs._

**The Desert Rose:**

_**The Sultana And The Street Rat **_

At first, her tears slipped down her face without her knowledge, their cold tracks the only evidence of their existence. But then her shoulders started to quake so hard that she could barely stay balanced on her camel. A strange rumbling came from her belly, a cross between a groan and a whine, and then her vision became blurry. She could no longer ignore her emotions, and, hardly caring where she was, she pulled the camel to an abrupt stop. Her feet had only touched the ground for seconds before she lurched over, heaving the contents of her stomach on the sand. Iago hovered over her, his eyes a mixture of fear and concern, but all she could concentrate on were the movements of her body. Gradually, her stomach settled and her tears slowed to a more manageable sniffle. Jasmine used the reigns of her camel to pull herself back to a standing position. _This is neither the time nor the place for this,_ she told herself between hiccupping sobs, _I can't be the delicate princess, not now._

With a steadying breath, Jasmine cleared her throat carefully, as if to make sure that it was still working.

"Iago," she said, and the parrot landed softly on her shoulder, his head cocked towards her, "We have a situation."

Had their circumstances not been so dire, Iago would have made one of the sarcastic comments that were so at home to his tongue, but the princess's face was still damp and red from crying, so he wisely kept his comments to himself.

"With the death of my father," Jasmine's breath caught in her throat, but she soldiered on, "I am now Sultana. That Jafar is now in control of Agrabah does not change this. I must find a way to defeat him and to free my city."

This time, Iago could not contain his squawk.

"But Princess—" he started, but was silenced by a steely stare and the word "Sultana."

"Sultana," he continued after a brief pause, edging a little farther away on Jasmine's shoulder, "Jafar is in control of Agrabah, and he's got everyone we know locked up with him. It's just the two of us versus someone who has apparently COME BACK FROM THE DEAD."

Iago tensed himself for the outburst that he was sure would follow, maybe an angry throttling, but he was surprised to see only a slight hardening of the princess's—_Sultana's_—expression.

"I won't leave them there to die," she said, "Not my friends. Not my people. We've defeated Jafar before, and we'll do it again."

Jasmine paused, and something flickered in her eyes, like an oil lamp being lit.

"All that have changed is the players."

With that, the girl pulled herself back on her camel and started off at full speed, leaving Iago too busy catching up to wonder what she meant or where they were headed.

* * *

The dungeons of the palace were as familiar to Aladdin as an oasis was to a desert trader, but far less welcoming. Despite the years living in the palace, his aversion to the dark, dank chambers had never abated. Probably because nothing good had ever come as a result of staying there. Either he was trapped by some megalomaniac villain or some less than savory character was trapped there, causing nothing but trouble. This time, he was the one trapped, chained to an uncomfortably familiar wall. But this time, he was alone, no Abu to scamper down and let him out, no Genie to save him. He squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to think about his friends. The last thing he had seen, Genie was being sucked into an urn decorated with nasty looking runes, Abu caught up in a cage that a mouse would have found cramped, and Carpet smothered in chains. And Sultan - Aladdin's throat tightened just thinking about him. He hadn't stood a chance. He had known it too, Aladdin had seen it in his eyes. But the Sultan was defiant to the very end, when Jafar had personally severed his head from his shoulders.

"The fool is no use to me," Jafar had said casually, as if he was shopping for figs, "Not alive, at least."

Aladdin didn't want to think about what he meant by that.

As the chains bit into his wrists, the former street rat tried to think of anything else but his situation, which at best was grim. A face instantly came into his mind. Jasmine. The ivory-eyed beauty who he had loved since they had first met. She was off on a diplomatic mission, and Aladdin had never been happier to have her away from his side. If not for that, he suspected that they all would be dead. Jafar had shown his sadism and his lust for revenge, and simple death would not be enough. It was Aladdin's fear that he wanted them all together so that he could torture and kill them, one by one, in front of their friends.

With Jasmine and Iago gone, it could, at least temporarily, keep the evil sorcerer at bay.

_Stay safe, Jasmine_, Aladdin prayed, thin ribbons of blood and sweat mixing on his brow, _Stay safe._

* * *

The sun was high in the sky, scorching all under it, when Jasmine decided to take a much-needed break. They hadn't stopped moving since she had recovered from her crying jag, and Iago was ready to drop, as was her poor camel. She wasn't in much better shape, tired from her emotional carnage and the constant riding, her skin covered with the sheen of sweat. A couple of jagged rocks provided shelter from the sun, as well as cover in case they were being followed. The three fell to the shaded sand, girl, bird, and camel, all craving a rest.

After a few comfortable minutes, Iago took the time to look around. They were still well within the realms of the Seven Deserts, but no longer in Agrabah. The sands were light and the shelters few and far between. In the distance, he thought he could see craggy mountains, but in the brilliant light, it was hard to tell.

"Where are we going?" he asked carefully, hoping the answer was 'far far away'.

"I've been thinking," Jasmine said, her lip twisting in concentration, "Jafar is in control of everything, and that includes the palace. Including the war room."

"And the dungeons and the kitchens and everything else. What of it?" the parrot retorted. He wasn't sure where she was going with the question, but he was sure he wouldn't like the answer.

"That gives him access to our lists of allies. He'll expect us to go to one of them, and that's where he'll look for us," she said, and the strange light was back in her eyes, "He'll be looking for us, I'm sure of it. That's why we're going to have to go somewhere he'll never expect."

"Like the casinos?" Iago said hopefully, "There's no way that he'd expect us there."

Jasmine rolled her eyes, something which the bird found strangely comforting. Seeing her more like herself gave him a little bit of hope for the future. Just a little.

"No, we're going somewhere more unexpected. Somewhere more dangerous," and with her next sentence, Iago's hope vanished, "We're going to the land of the Black Sands."


	3. A Tale of Two Twosomes

_I'm not quite dead yet. _

**The Desert Rose:**

**_A Tale of Two Twosomes_**

The sands were restless. He could feel it, all the way from his lab deep within the citadel. The winds were blowing, he thought, the walls being far too thick to hear its howl, or maybe the earth was letting loose one of its occasional tremors. It was to be expected, especially in the land of the black sands. He tried to smooth the thoughts from his mind, tried to concentrate on the experiment residing in the twisted glass bottles lining the table. There was no reason to be concerned.

With his gloved hand, he picked up the smallest of the glass bottles, a motley colored thing, and carefully started to measure its contents into a larger bottle which was filled with an eerie glowing substance.

"Master," a slimy voice broke his concentration and in the fragment of the second he was distracted, the last of the contents of the smallest bottle fell into the larger bottle, causing the air to become instantly putrid.

"Xerxes," Mozenrath growled, reaching to strangle the eel-like creature, stopping instead to cover his mouth with his cape. Thanks to his minion's meddling, his potion was more toxic than intended, and could transform a man in a matter of breaths. It took him only moments to cross the room, jerking Xerxes out with his magic. He had hardly slammed the door, a thick one built in case of leaks such as these, before his hand was at the eel's throat.

"What have I told you about interrupting my experiments?" he asked in a deceptively quiet tone, his face inches from his minion's. Xerxes visibly gulped.

"It's the sands, master," the eel said, his voice raspy as a result of the chokehold. Mozenrath lessened his grip slightly, "They're moving."

The dark magician reconsidered his decision to lessen his grip.

"I already knew that, you fool," he snarled, watching Xerxes eyes bug out, "I am the master of the black sands, in case you've forgotten. You interrupted a very delicate experiment for this—"

"They're forming paths," the unfortunate eel croaked, slipping out of Mozenrath's grasp when it temporarily lightened, the sorcerer's eyes widening. His cape billowed as he ran to the nearest window, nearly tearing apart its coverings to see outside. At first, it looked like one of the not-uncommon tricks that the afternoon sun loved to play on the eyes. But after a moment's hard gaze, it was clearly no mirage. The black sands were moving, and no wind could have caused the shapes that were writhing across the ground. There were paths, like Xerxes said, but, more of interest to the sorcerer, there were runes actively being formed and dissolved across the surface of the desert. To say this was unusual would be an understatement. Mozenrath had lived in the land of the black sands since he was barely more than a child, and never had he witnessed such an event. Although the sands were powerful, they were not sentient, and should not be able to form into recognizable shapes.

Not unless the last ramblings of the old fool, Destane, were correct, Mozenrath thought, slamming a palm angrily against the cold stone wall. The previous master of the black sands, now rotting away with the rest of the Mamluks, Mozenrath killed him the moment he was sure that he had learned all that he could from the old sorcerer, and none too soon. At least, that was what he had thought until now. If Destane wasn't as mad as he had assumed, then his final words, words that had sounded at best like an attempt to scare him, and at worst, a lunatic's fever frenzy, were the key to understanding what was now happening in his kingdom.

How _incredibly_ frustrating.

Had Xerxes been within arm's reach, Mozenrath would have throttled him in an attempt to relieve his tension, but the eel had wisely retreated to avoid his master's rage. Instead, he growled and summoned a trio of Mamluk.

"You three," he said in a tone as burning as the midday desert sun, "Bring me all the old papers from Destane's old study, everything from journals to the tiniest scrap of parchment. Do not fail me."

The Mamluks nodded and shuffled off as hastily as their undead bodies could muster. Mozenrath mustered a faint smirk at their pathetic demeanor before turning to Xerxes. The eel was still out of reach, wary of his master, but the sorcerer's mind had turned from his rage.

"Come, Xerxes," he said, gesturing with his gauntleted hand, "You and I are going to see what my sands have to say."

* * *

"This is nuts," Iago said for what felt to Jasmine to be the thousandth time, "There's no way this will work! Do you know what he'd do to us?"

The girl wiped the sweat from her brow and glared at the parrot, who was flying erratically around her shoulders. It had been at least an hour since she had told him her plan, and he hadn't shut up about it since. Even when they had started travelling again, the bird hadn't complained once about the pace, too caught up in his dire warnings. Although Iago's complaining was always annoying, this was even more grating, as she knew that, as opposed to his usual complaints, this time, he had actual points. Mozenrath was hardly one who could be trusted, and with their history of thwarting his plans, it was quite possible that he would take advantage of their weakened position and take his revenge. They would be in his lands, where he was most powerful, and if they had to fight, they would lose.

"—And then we'd have to listen to him monologue for at LEAST an hour before he'd put us out of our misery!" Iago continued, oblivious to the fact that she had been trying to ignore him, "If we're lucky! If not—"

Jasmine had had enough and grabbed the parrot by the beak, clamping down firmly so not another word could escape.

"I know," she said, her voice low, with a jagged undertone, "I know that, Iago. I know Mozenrath every bit as well as you. I know the risks. But I also know this," she paused, lessening her grip on his beak, "Whatever happens, even if he kills us, will be far kinder than what Jafar has planned. It's a risk, yes, but I have to take it."

With that, she released the parrot, her lips attempting a smile, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I can't just run when there's a chance that he can help us. He may not like us, but I think his ego will like the idea of a stronger sorcerer even less. And you said once before that even Jafar steered away from the land of the black sands. Maybe it'll still be true."

"That's a lot of assumptions," Iago said, rubbing his beak where Jasmine had grabbed it, "The only thing we can rely on Mozenrath for is trouble."

Jasmine sighed, her shoulders slumping so that she looked like another hump on the camel's back.

"I'm not going to argue with you, Iago," she replied, sounding tired, "All I can do is ask you to trust me. If you can't, then you should go when you still can. Run to the casinos, or to Odiferous, or anywhere you can be safe. I won't blame you."

Iago was so quite that she thought that the desert itself had swallowed him. A lump formed in her throat, and with every moment of silence, it grew larger. She was about to try and speak when, finally, he broke the silence.

"You're nuts," and Jasmine nearly choked, the lump in her throat now feeling like it was coconut-sized, "The plan is nuts. And I must be nuts, because despite all of your crazy, there's no way I'm going anywhere. You're stuck with me, Princess, and you might as well get used to it."

"Oh, Iago," Jasmine whispered, hugging the startled bird tightly to her chest. He squirmed momentarily, but then allowed the girl to embrace him.

"Just don't let it go to your head," he said, and a genuine smile flickered across her features, one that was soon replaced by a much sterner face. Raising one arm, she pointed into the distance, and Iago flew up to get a better look. It was far away, but the sight of glistening black sands was unmistakable, as was the faint silhouette of the Citadel.

"We'll be there by sunset," Jasmine said, and with only a second of hesitation, they headed off towards the desolate land which held their worst best hope.


End file.
